"You sure he's in there?" Devil leans forward between the seats, eyeing the door Hex pointed out earlier.
"Smells like trash, so must be." I reach for the door handle. "Let me handle this. Trouble, keep it running. Devil, watch my back."
Trouble nods, hands already back on the wheel. Devil's out the door before I finish speaking, falling into position like he's done this a hundred times, because he has.
I don’t miss the disappointment on his expression when he doesn’t get to join in on the ‘fun’ part.
I cradle the handle of my gun tucked in my holster as I walk. The weight settles into my palm like an old friend. I’ve gone too many days since I’ve needed it. Pulling it out risks fucking everything up, but if I have to pull it out and shoot, then that's a decision I won't regret.
The door is cheap wood, probably hollow. I don't hesitate or waste any precious seconds. My boot connects just below the handle, and the frame splinters on impact. The door slams against the inside wall with a crack that echoes down the whole damn row.
Johnny's already scrambling.
He's off the bed, back against the far wall, eyes wide and wild.
My smile is nowhere to be found.
"You—" Johnny's hand dives for the nightstand and comes up with a gun. Probably thinking all of us in leather look the same, he doesn’t even hesitate. He fires.
The shot goes wide, punching through the open doorway behind me. A little to the left, and he could’ve got Devil. My ears ring, but I don't flinch. Don't even blink.
Sirens won't be far. Someone heard that shot. The chance is high that someone is already calling it in.
I close the distance before he can fire again. My free hand grabs the barrel, wrenching it sideways. His finger's still on the trigger when the second shot goes off—into the wall this time. I twist, hard, and the gun clatters to the floor, and I fight every instinct in me to shove my gun beneath his chin and blow his brains out.
That’s the easy way to end this, but a death so quick isn’t deserving. It’s what allows him to keep breathing as he makes a sloppy attempt to swing at me in one last desperate attempt.
I’d hoped to shoot him in the thigh, maybe. But the thought of him bleeding out stops me there, too.
So I opt to use my fist. One punch with a crunch leaves Johnny boy stumbling toward the stained carpet. He trips over his own feet, and I'm on him before he can get up.
The chokehold comes easy. Arm around his throat, knee in his spine. He gasps and claws at my forearm, but I've got him.
"You left them." My teeth are gritted. "You left Penny and that little girl to face those animals alone."
He's choking and turning my favorite shades of purple. I ease up just enough for him to breathe, to know that I’m the one in control, not him.
"You’re going to get what you deserve," I murmur against his ear. "And I know you’re going to wish I had killed you right now.”
His eyes go wide, filled with enough terror to barely scratch the surface of satisfying me.
I grin then, already thinking about the future. "Don't worry. I'm going to take real good care of your girls. Better than you ever did."
He barely has the energy to bare his teeth at me before his body goes limp in my arms.
I hold him there for an extra beat, just to be sure, before letting him drop to the filthy carpet. My chest is heaving. Adrenaline is burning through my veins like fire.
Devil's head appears in the doorway. He takes one look at Johnny, one look at me, and lifts a brow.
“Thanks for the backup,” I say, releasing my annoyance at the chance of eating two bullets.
His mouth curls into a sinister smile. "My bad. I thought the adults could handle it."
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. "Just help me move the body before the cops show up."
Together, we haul Johnny's dead weight toward the door. Devil's efficient—quick with the ropes, wrists, and ankles bound before the guy even stirs. When Johnny groans, eyelids fluttering, Devil slaps a strip of tape over his mouth without missing a beat.
"Shh," Devil murmurs, almost sweetly. "Go back to sleep."
